


i'll mean something to you

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: Rosaline asks Benvolio to sleep with her - one time, no strings. He agrees.This is that one time.[Expanded scene from Chapter 5 of the longest infinity.]





	i'll mean something to you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the longest infinity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238522) by [TheSushiMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster). 



> If you haven't read Chapter 1/2 of TLI this may not make complete sense. Also, the ending is totally from Chapter 5. 
> 
> Prompt: "We're not in love, but I'll make love to you" (title comes from the same song)

On Saturday afternoon, Rosaline’s hand is halfway to the door when she drops it and turns around.

She makes it to the front steps before closing her eyes, sighing, and heading back to the door.

This time she knocks rapidly, chewing her lip, her knuckles against wood, no time to second guess.

And when the door swings open, Rosaline is partially relieved to see Benvolio standing there, sweatpants hung low on his hips and undershirt clinging tightly to his chest. But the other part of her - the part screaming, telling her to run - wishes it had been anyone else on the other side of the doorway.

Benvolio smiles, hesitantly. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

His fingers tap against the door. “Um, come in.”

She does.

The door swings shut behind her.

The house feels quiet, and even if it’s past noon, this isn’t unusual for the KT house. “Everyone still asleep?” she asks, whispering because indeed a brother lies on the couch, graffiti on his face. 

Benvolio adjusts the blanket on the boy on the couch before nodding. “Yeah, last night was quite the rager.” He tilts his head to the stairs. “My room?”

Rosaline only nods.

His room is still the same. Artwork in random places, clothes on the floor and books stuffed under the bed. Although tempted, she resists the urge to glance into the trash can - she doesn’t know how she’ll feel if she sees another condom.

Instead, she hovers by the door.

Benvolio rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry it’s not the cleanest - with the party last night I haven’t had a chance to - ”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, waving a hand. Rosaline steps closer, shutting the door behind her. She winces at the accidental  _ slam _ . “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The thick silence hovers, crawling under her skin. Rosaline twirls a piece of hair around her finger. “So I just wanted to make sure - ”

“Don’t.” Benvolio crosses his arms across his chest but avoids her eyes. “I’m sure.” His gaze flickers over to her, but only momentarily. “Are you?”

The sight of him - curled into himself, not at all confident or bright or  _ Benvolio _ \- 

Without thinking, Rosaline closes the distance and kisses him. Or she tries to. Because she misses - her nose slamming against his and her lips hitting the skin of his cheek instead. “Oh my god - ”

Benvolio laughs, his hand quickly grabbing onto hers to keep her there. “It’s okay.” His other hand rubs his nose. “That, was, um - ”

As a child, Rosaline wished to be invisible. She wishes that now too. “I’m so sorry - ”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine.” His hand drops from his face - now both of his hands hold hers, held between their chests. “First kisses are overrated.”

The giggle that escapes her lips is at least one part startled, one part embarassment - but with him looking down at her, like  _ that _ , with dark eyes and gentle smile and a tongue running across his lips -

This kiss is slow. Her hands slide back to his face and Rosaline kisses him firmly - she wants to pour the pieces of her broken heart  _ into _ him. So she does - and he returns them back, glass scratching at their throats. Her hands slip down to his shoulders, bracing herself - she’s lost in him, in how he tastes of mint and hope. But his arms curls around her, lifting her, and her pelvis rubs against his.

She moans into his mouth. Benvolio smirks. She nips at his lip in response.

His hands lower - when he squeezes her ass, she melts into him, kissing him harder. It’s been so long -  _ too  _ long - since she’d been kissed like this,  _ touched _ like this. Her right hand skims over his chest, feeling muscles moving beneath his thin shirt. Involuntarily, she squirms against him.

Benvolio’s hand freezes for a moment; he stops massaging her butt and raises his hand a  _ respectful _ distance to her lower back. Rolling her eyes, she twists her arm around to replace his hand back where they were before grabbing his shirt and kissing his neck. 

Benvolio growls, lifts her up, and before she can wrap her legs around him, he gently places her on the bed.

Rosaline raises an eyebrow. “You can touch me.”

“I  _ know _ that,” he says. He hesitates - and then proceeds to rip off his shirt with one hand.

It’s not as if Rosaline hasn’t seen him shirtless - rival car washes, rival pool parties, shirtless fundraisers of various kinds - but this is different. This time, she touches him. Her finger hovers over his ribs - her hesitance disappears, however, when Benvolio steps closer, allowing her to touch and feel and explore, and she  _ does _ . He’s warm; his edges are soft and his curves are hollow, but he feels beautiful.

Rosaline kisses his chest. Benvolio sinks to his knees. “Trust me?” he asks.

She nods.

Pushing her legs apart, he scoots closer. Kissing her, one hand holds her cheek - even if he’s soft, his thumb caressing her skin and his fingers massaging her neck, she wonders if she can reach orgasm just like this. The warmth of his body spreads through her quickly; her veins are wires for his electricity, and she needs him to spark the fire.

His other hand, on her thigh, moves higher. Her legs separate further. He pauses by the zipper of her jeans - but she holds onto his arm, keeping it in place, and bucks into him.

Both hands quickly undo and pull off her pants. Her underwear gets caught on it - but neither stop the black fabric from falling to the floor too.

His hands back on her thighs, Rosaline embraces his body with her legs. Biting her lip, she watches him - he looks straight at her, keeping his eyes level, as if he’s making a point.

When he kisses her again, hard and desperate, his hands digging into her skin, and he pushes her back against the bed - his bed - so she has to rests on her elbows - his point feels very clear. “You trust me, right?” he asks again, hovering above her, giving her enough space to breathe yet not really quite enough at all.

Despite herself, despite the fire rolling through her veins and the overwhelming desire to combust, Rosaline smiles. “Yes. I do.”

So Benvolio smirks, lets his hand slide up under her shirt to palm her breast, and lowers himself.

The moment his lips meet the skin of her inner thighs, Rosaline falls back against the bed completely.

Benvolio’s mouth, she can admit, is of some talent - before, it annoyed her, how witty and quick to retort he was - but  _ now _ , now, with his lips and tongue and teeth kissing her at her core, she can admit - she doesn’t mind his mouth one bit.

But - it’s not quite - “I need - ” she starts, not exactly sure what words she wants to say, particularly when he stops completely. “No don’t  _ stop _ \- ”

“You were talking - ” Benvolio rolls his eyes. “What do you need?”

“To keep going, you idiot.” 

So Benvolio narrows his eyes and licks at her clit. Rosaline frowns. Benvolio notices. “What?”

“Circles. Yeah, definitely - ” she exhales. “Circles.”

Tilting his head, Benvolio considers her before shrugging. 

And when his tongue circles her clit, and she moans, Benvolio smirks. “Better?” The vibrations edge her closer and she arcs into him. “Thought so.”

God, she hates his mouth. 

Especially when his tongue enters her, licking back up before circling her clit again. Her groan is louder, the arc deeper. The hand on her chest - her bra pushed uselessly above her breasts now - dips down to spread over her stomach, keeping her in place. The single gesture - a hand holding her down, the callouses on his fingers rubbing along her skin - brings her even higher.

Her bra annoys her, sitting at her neck, so she tries to ignore his smirk when she sits up to unclasp it. Benvolio spreads her legs even farther and Rosaline almost rips her bra when his finger touches her entrance.

“Oh,” she says, falling back again, trying to feel more of him. “Please - ”

He enters one finger, then two, before slowly moving them, in and out - the slick torture, feeling so much, but  _ not enough _ \- 

His fingers curl up. Rosaline vibrates. His fingers move faster - and his mouth returns, swirling at her clit, and the sensation is  _ so much _ -

_ “Is this okay?”  _

_ “Yes, god - yes, good, this is - good - ”  _

Riding his face, Rosaline pushes and Benvolio pulls. The pressure builds in her stomach, in her core, in her legs and her feet and heart - until she shatters, shaking against his lips. He coaxes her, whispering between her thighs, fingers slowly circling her. 

Rosaline lets out a laugh. “Wow.”

Benvolio crawls up beside her. “Good?”

“Yeah.” She turns to face him; he still has his pants and she still wears her shirt. Somehow, that doesn’t work for her. “Take off your pants.”

Rolling his eyes, he does. Eyeing her shirt, he nods. “And you?”

She throws it at him. He chuckles as it drops to the floor too.

There’s a moment where she feels exposed - naked and cold and on top of the sheets. But Benvolio sears her with his stare, dark and determined and just as vulnerable. Rosaline moves so her head rests on the pillows, but Benvolio shakes his head. “Trust me,” he says, still standing. He gently pulls her towards him by her feet. His thumb massages her ankles. “I want you to feel good.”

Rosaline can’t speak. She doesn’t want to, not when the air in her lungs breathes lavender fire and words wouldn’t be enough. Instead, she pulls him down to kiss him, hard, as his hands move on her legs. He’s gentle and rough all at the same time and Rosaline needs him.

She needs him to make her forget.

It’s one time.

This time.

And all she wants is him.

Her hand slips down to hold his cock. Still kissing, Benvolio groans into her mouth and she catches it, breathes it, channels it into her slow strokes. His grip tenses on her thighs, but she keeps her pace as he grows even harden between her fingers. She pulses in anticipation.

Benvolio leans to his dresser, grabbing a condom. Silently, he offers it to her. Her heart may flutter, it may pound even louder, but her fingers only shake a little when she rips open the wrapper and quietly places on the condom.

He doesn’t say anything either, remaining completely still.

Until - until she’s done and her fingers linger by his hips - and then he pulls her closer, bending down just slightly - so he’s there, circling her, feeling her -

“Ben - ” she says, not sure exactly what she wants, what she needs anymore - just -

And he enters her slowly and gradually; he sneaks up into her and she widens, accepting. Her heart fills too, somehow, and even if that terrifies her - all she knows is that she feels  _ good _ .

He feels so good.

And then he moves.

Teasingly slow, he pulls out completely before entering deep. A gasp escapes her. He groans too.

Again, he moves back, this time not as much, but when he pushes in, still so deep, so  _ there _ . Rosaline wants to touch him - but all she can reach are his hands, braced against her hips. Maybe it’s on purpose, the space and the separation, but  _ god _ , his hands are strong and his veins move against her palms. Her feet rest against his back, heels digging in, trying to speed up the pace - but Benvolio remains in control.

And that’s when she finally looks at his face.

Hazel eyes shine with the glittering of the beginning of tears - but it’s how soft they look, compared to the hard line of his jaw. When their eyes meet, his pace falters - enough that she can quicken it, push him deeper, make it  _ harder _ \- and Benvolio doesn’t stop her. His eyes glow in the afternoon sunlight and he enters her over and over - faster, harder, deeper - she vibrates, the repeated mantra of skin on skin echoing in her ears, but not quite loud enough to drown out her heart, beating faster and faster, his hands anchoring her to the moment, to  _ him _ , to  _ this _ -

His right hand tightens around hers. Together, they move to her clit - and together, they circle it, antagonizing slow - but then faster, together, his index and her middle - together and faster and harder - 

She comes again, and she may scream a little, or alot, and Benvolio keeps going - his muscles ripple and he closes his eyes and she feels his pacing turn erratic - until he comes too, in spurts and jerks, a tear slowly falling on his cheek and a pained laugh on his lips.

Rosaline leans back against bed. Benvolio slowly slips out before turning and joining her.

They don’t touch.

_ There’s silence when they lay side by side on his bed, sweat and sheets and slow breathing. At some point, Benvolio finally tosses out the condom, and Rosaline takes that as her cue to replace her clothing and leave. _

_ “You don’t have to - ” he starts, standing naked in his room, but Rosaline shakes her head and avoids looking at him, even though she’s licked that chest, massaged those thighs, kissed those lips. _

_ “Yeah, I do.” _


End file.
